A/N Okay so not even close to the usual amount, and I'm sorry for the shortness, with this long of a wait you'd expect a longer chapter eh?
Well anyway thing is I kinda got writer's block, this chapter is kinda necessary yet kinda not.
I dunno, anyway I promise the next one will be a lot more interesting to read and I'd really appreciate it if y'all tell me what you think ;DD
Sam and Dean salted all the doors and windows.
Sam was too hyped up about about the sleep over that he didn't even ask about the extra precautions. George stood behind them and watched, her arms crossed over her chest, seemingly lost in her own trail of thought.
If she thought what they were doing was weird she said nothing about it.
Josh and Keith, on the other hand, had been told to go and get ready for bed while George showed Dean where all the doors and windows were.
One thing Dean liked about George was that she knew when to ask questions and when to just drop it. She would just shut up and watch, only speaking if she had to.
After they were done Sam went off to get dressed and ready for bed while George took Dean to her room.
George had gone into the bathroom to change into a tank top and boxers, while Dean stripped to his boxers and grabbed his duffel in search of a t-shirt.
When George came out of the bathroom she found a shirtless Dean digging through his bag. She maneuvered her way around him and sat down on the edge of her bed, facing him. He looked up and smiled at her from behind his long eyelashes, and she smiled back, getting up to stand in front of him.
Still smiling.
Dean straightened up and kissed her chin. George tore her gaze away from his face long enough to scan his well-toned chest. Most of the scars that he had earlier were gone, but the huge one that had made her stomach churn earlier had faded into a white line.
She traced it with her fingers, not really capable of saying anything. She stopped once she had gotten to the waistband of his boxers.
"It's almost gone now" she finally managed to choke out.
"I didn't think you noticed it the first time"
"Are you crazy? Of course I did" the first part was harsh, the second soft, caring might have even been the word for it.
"Maybe I'll be able to tell you how I got it, one day" Dean stroked her hair, his fingers running across the nape of her neck every so often.
George wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. Dean rubbed her back.
"I'm scared Dean. The way Mrs. McDonald died. There's something not right about it"
"Is that why you asked me to stay?"
George nodded into his chest.
"I figured we'd be safer if we stayed together, instead of in separate houses"
"Is that it?" Dean cocked an eyebrow at her, a small smile playing on his lips.
She looked up at him, annoyance playing across her face.
"What do you mean?"
Dean studied her expression for a long time, one of his hands still in her hair, the other one still playing across her back.
"Nuthin I guess" was his final answer.
She smiled at him regardless and reached up to kiss his neck, moving up to his jaw-line and finally getting to his ear.
"You should get dressed" she whispered before heading for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Kitchen"
"Again with the kitchen sex George? I thought you weren't into that kinda thing" he smirked and she smirked back, cocking her eyebrow.
"I think you're the one who wants to have kitchen sex with me Dean" his smirk deepened as he gazed at her.
"I want to have sex with you. Period. Where it is I really couldn't care less" he gave her a suggestive look before winking.
George sighed and shook her head.
"Just get dressed Winchester"
Dean chuckled as she closed the door behind her.
**
Dean had finally found a clean enough shirt to wear and then went thundering down the stairs and into the kitchen.
George was sitting on the counter next to the fridge, leaning against it, eating out of a box of ice cream.
She glanced up at him from behind her thick, curled eyelashes and grinned.
Dean tried to remember anyone other than Sam and Dad who had been so happy to see him.
He came up with nothing.
He grinned back at her, locking eyes with her for a good five seconds before clearing his throat and eyeing the box of ice cream in her hands.
"You planning on using that on me Reynolds?"He cocked an eyebrow.
She looked as if she was going to give him some smartass reply but instead she smirked.
"Sure Dean I'll just cover your dick with ice cream and then suck it all off. Might as well blow you while I'm at it. What do you think'll taste better, vanilla or chocolate?"
Dean's eyes flew open, staring at her in disbelief. Then he pictured her on her knees, his fly undone, her full lips wrapped around his hard and swollen cock.
He very nearly groaned out loud.
Instead he bit back his groan and walked over to her, placing his hands on her waist and kissed her collarbone.
George's breath caught in her throat when his lips made contact with her flesh. A shiver went down her spine as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her.
Dean reached between them and got rid of the box of ice cream so he could push himself up against her without the box digging into his stomach.
He nipped at her collar bone, a groan erupting from the back of her throat, making him bite harder, a second groan, he trails his tongue over the bite mark and she arches her neck towards him.
Dean's head is yelling for him to stop right about now, but he just won't listen to reason. Maybe he should stop before things get out of hand, but then she moans his name out.
Dean, she moans.
Yes, he whispers back, now working the rest of her neck.
Please, she begs.
Please what? He asks.
I want you.
Me too.
She pulls away from him to look him in the eye.
"Don't say that if you don't mean it, Dean"
"Of course I mean it, George. Why wouldn't I?"
She shrugged in response, her eyes boring into his.
Dean pulled away from her and ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. George smiled and watched him, bringing her feet up to her chest.
"You okay Winchester?"
Dean nodded and went back to his original place in front of her, she wrapped her legs around his waist once more and he placed his hands on her waist.
"What's wrong Dean?"
He shook his head and then buried his face in the crook of her neck. George reached up and stroked his hair, noticing how soft it was and how warm she felt, pressed up against him.
"I want to say fuck it George. Really. I wanna say fuck waiting, fuck leaving, just fuck it all" his voice was barely above a whisper, his breath tickling her neck.
"Then-"
"But if I do you'll get hurt. And I don't wanna hurt you George"
George's hand stroking his hair felt especially soothing. Dean had a vague memory of his mother holding him closer to her chest in a rocking chair and she stroked his hair, George made him feel like that again, she made him feel like he was in his mother's arms again.
She made him feel happy.
She made him feel safe.
That night, George let Dean sleep in her bed.
